Tuesday, March 22, 2011


By Bob Dylan

The chill of the winter night caresses your toes from the balcony railing on which you have propped your feet. You adjust the cushions on your chair till you’re comfortable, and make sure your feet don’t slip off the railing. You keep the whisky close by on a chair, where you keep your cigarette and ash tray. Getting cosy on a winter night is all about keeping everything you need at arm’s length. You don’t want to stretch too much for the lighter or your glass, and you definitely don’t want to get up. The whisky you’ve poured yourself is keeping your body warm, you look out at the neighbouring flats, which are all quiet. No sign of life except for the lights coming on and off at periodic intervals from the flats. After a few sips, you light a cigaratte and exhale, watching the smoke swirl silently into the crisp night air. You pick up the Walkman from your lap, adjust the earphones, and push the play button. You settle in your chair snugly, wondering if there’s anyone you can play this song to.Well, it's still early in life, you decide.


  1. I just re-read the lyrics to this song, and I bow in reverence.

  2. He is coming here in April,coming?:)